was in his car seat with the door closed before I voiced my concerns. Again. “Listen, Jude… this is… you need to take a step back.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Why? Because it’s what you want? Or because you don’t want to upset Brody?”
“Both.”
Jude raked a hand through his hair and clenched his jaw. “Let me get this straight. You’re worried about upsetting Brody but you don’t give a shit how any of this affects me?”
I gaped at him. Was he for real right now? “I spent an entire year putting you and your needs first. Worrying about every little thing I said and did. Blaming myself for upsetting you. I walked on eggshells the whole time you were home, Jude. I couldn’t even allow myself to grieve…” I let my words drift off. I didn’t want to get into any of this. Not now. Not ever. I took a deep breath and averted my face so I didn’t have to see the hurt expression or the guilt on his.
“I’m sorry. You’re right.”
I didn’t want to hear that he was sorry. I never wanted to hear those words from him again. I brushed past him. “I need to go.”
Thankfully, he didn’t try to stop me from leaving. I backed my car out of the driveway and swung onto the road, giving him one final look before I drove away. He was still standing in the same spot where I’d left him. And God help me, I still loved that man. But letting him into my life again was dangerous.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Jude
Three days. That was how long I held off before I caved and showed up at her door like a lost puppy. Lila’s cottage on River Road was nestled in a grove of trees and sat on a limestone bluff. Hanging flower baskets flanked the front door, the blooms a riot of color—purple and red and fuchsia. Two Adirondack chairs sat on the front porch and I wondered if she sat out here and stargazed. From her front porch, you could catch a glimpse of the river through the cypress trees lining the riverbank. It was peaceful here, the air scented with pine and the cedar of the shingles on her cottage. The scent of cedar would forever remind me of those nights lying on the cedar-shingled roof with Lila. When I inhaled deeply, it smelled like home.
I knocked on the front door. Hopefully she wouldn’t slam it in my face.
I waited a few seconds then lifted my hand to knock again. The door swung open and she was covered from head to toe in flour. I grinned at her.
“Did you get in a fight with the Pillsbury Dough Boy?”
Looking down at her flour-covered T-shirt, she laughed. “Noah and I are making homemade pizza.”
I groaned. Actually groaned. “Need some help?”
“No.” But she opened her door wider, an invitation to come inside. “You do know I’m a florist, right?” she asked when I thrust the wildflowers into her hands. I’d picked half a field of wildflowers and tied them with string. It made me feel like I was fifteen years old again.
“Wildflowers picked by me are your favorite.”
“They used to be,” she said. “Wildflowers picked by Noah are my favorite now.”
I could live with that. Much better to have a four-year-old rival than a thirty-year-old asshole cowboy vying for position. I told myself that I wouldn’t think about Brody. Whenever I did, I tortured myself with the vision of them together. Which fucked with my head.
So I shoved his memory out of the way—there wasn’t room for both of us—and followed her inside the house.
Noah grinned at me from his spot at the island in the cheerful sunshine yellow kitchen. He was standing on a stepstool so he could reach the granite counter. “Hi Uncle Jude. Did you bring me a present?”
“People are not required to bring presents every time they show up at your door,” Lila said then muttered under her breath. “Even when they’re uninvited.”
I ignored her little jab and focused on Noah, my number one ally. I had a man in my corner and I wasn’t above bribery to keep him on my side. “Of course I did. It’s for after dinner.”
He jumped off the stool and took the plastic bag from my hand, opening the handles to look inside. His whole face lit up. “Ice cream!”
“Nothing says love like Diabetes,” Lila said, filling mason jars with water to hold all the wildflowers. “You need to stop